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Title: With a little help…
Author: Venom69
E-mail: venom_the_shipper@yahoo.com.au
Category: Smut, romance,
violence.
Pairing: Cath/Gil
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Catherine needs help and Gil is there to provide it.
Spoilers:
None.
Season/sequel: Set before the series began.
Archive: Anywhere, everywhere, I don’t care!
Disclaimer:
Don’t own them, never will. Promise to put them back in the state I found them. Song isn’t mine either. Damn.
Author’s
notes: Well, Kat should be happy, Tricia should be happy, everyone else should be happy, but my dog still doesn’t care!
I am aware that there is no mention of Lindsey in here- this was done on purpose. Then you, the reader, can decide when this
takes place exactly. Not beta’d, mistakes are my own.
Feedback: Hell yeah! Don’t make me beg, hit reply and
stroke my ego please.
Dedication: As always, for LEW. For Kat, who waited so patiently *eye roll* for this fic. For Angie,
who help with my question. For Becky, I put your new favorite line in here! And for Tricia: It’s not what you asked
for, but it is smut….and I will get that Lady heather fic done eventually! And for everyone who sent me such lovely
feedback for my first two stories in this fandom, thank you!
Date: 01/01/2005
Copyright © to Venom, 2004
***
These
wounds wont seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There’s just too much that time can not erase
***
“I
love you,” She whispers, and her words echo slightly in the quiet of your house.
“I know.” You return,
fingertips gently running up her bare arms. She shivers at the contact, and you’re proud of yourself for making her
body react to you like that.
Purple, blue and yellow mar her perfect skin, and you can see the evidence of where he
gripped her. “He grabbed my shoulders and shook me.” She explains, her voice still hushed.
You want to
tell her to leave him, you want to tell her that you can offer her a better life. But that’s not your role. You just
have to be here for her to help her pick up the pieces after one of his beatings. That’s what best friend’s are
for.
Continuing your inventory, your fingers brush past the straps of her tank top, sitting delicately on her shoulders.
They trace her jugular, looking for signs of attempted choking. “Too hard to hide.” She mumbles, knowing where
your thoughts lie. You nod your agreement.
There is a yellow mark peeking up at you, on the top of her left breast.
Your fingers trace a gentle path down her breastbone until they reach the black cotton of her tank. She steps back from you
then, and you fear you’ve overstepped the mark. You don’t normally question her about the bruises, or take inventory
of them. Your job is to have a well-stocked first aid kit and the ability to clean her up when she comes here.
Her
hands go to the bottom of her shirt and she tugs it over her head, tossing it onto the sofa. “No bra?” You ask
quietly.
“It’s in my car. It hurt so I took it off on the way here.” She admits, eyes downcast.
You
step towards her again, bringing you closer together. Letting your eyes wash over the newly exposed skin, you see more of
the all too familiar purple area on the underside of her breasts. Your fingers trace the bruise tentatively. “Foot.”
There
are long, thin, lines that go across her left breast, and your hand cups her, feeling the weight, the texture committed to
memory. She leans towards you further with her head on your shoulder, drawing silent support as you run your fingers across
the soft skin. “Hand.”
“Did he….?” You can’t finish the sentence, but your mind
conjures up imagines of more bruises on her inner thighs, her screams, his dominance. You close your eyes tightly, and slip
and arm around her waist to hold her to you.
She shakes her head against your chest and the wave of relief that washes
over you leaves you breathless for several moments. You have a hard enough time respecting her wishes to ‘let her handle
him’ as it is. If he were forcing himself on her as well, no one would be able to hold you back.
The thought
scares you.
“I’m sorry,’ She whispers suddenly, breaking you from your thoughts.
“Why?”
“Because
you shouldn’t have to see me like this.”
It occurs to you, only now, that you’re still holding her
breast in your hand, and you pull it up to cup her chin, bringing her watery eyes to meet yours. “Please don’t
ever feel the need to hide from me.”
“I don’t.”
“I love you.”
“I
know.”
With that, she brings her lips to yours.
And the affair begins.
***
You’ve
always considered yourself an honorable man, a good man. You try to do the right thing, you fight to have the voices of the
dead heard. You respect people, help them, comfort them, you would do anything for those you love.
But you are, your
conscience supplies, on the verge of sleeping with a married woman.
“Don’t think,” She tells you
suddenly, fingers slipping through the buttons of your shirt, undoing them while her touch leaves you tingling. “Just
feel.”
Smiling softly at her, your hands once more map an unidentified pattern across her torso. The bruises
are forgotten now, thoughts of them replaced with the desire to taste every inch of her.
Her nipples have hardened,
and you caress them gently. She moans, and her mouth searches blindly for yours. Tasting her lips again, your hands leave
their exploration of her breasts to travel the length of her spine. You tickle each vertebra; light, teasing touches that
leave her panting a little.
“Don’t tease.” She growls, teeth latching on to your bottom lip. A teasing
threat. You love it.
Stepping back, you snap the buttons on her shorts open, pulling them down her legs. Your hands
brush over her skin as you pull the material down, leaving her standing in nothing but cotton panties. They’re a lot
tamer than you expected from her, but they’re perfect.
She’s perfect.
You tell her that, and she
looks shocked, but then she blushes. “No one has ever said that to me before.” She whispers, water forming in
her eyes again.
Standing, you bend slightly and pick her up, carrying her towards your bedroom as you talk to her.
“You are perfect, Catherine. And you’re beautiful, and you’re smart and-“
“And I’m
getting a big head.” She giggles, and you drop her from your arms to land on the navy blue comforter that rests on your
bed.
Winking at her, you grin, “So am I.”
She laughs outright then, a full body laugh that has
her shaking. “Come here.” She orders, hands reaching for your fly.
You don’t stop her as she unzips
your jeans and pulls them, along with your boxers, down to your feet. You kick them off silently. She pulls you into her hands,
squeezing, pleasure from the slight pressure erupts through you, and you shudder.
“Well, you certainly weren’t
wrong.” She grins, and licks the drop of pre-cum from the tip of your erection.
It would be unmanly to say that
you whimpered, but you know you did. You stop her from going any further, knowing that with this woman, you have very little
control. You want this to be so much more to her than a comfort fuck. You want to make it perfect for her, because she deserves
nothing less.
Pushing on her shoulders, you wait until she is lying flat on your bed, looking up at you. lovingly
Settling down next to her, you once more skim the length of her torso, fascinated with the softness of her skin. There are
a few scars on her body, whether or not they’re from the bastard she calls her husband, you don’t know. But you
don’t ask either.
“Enjoying the view?” She murmurs, and you suspect that she is a little self-conscious
of her body, but she has no reason to be.
“Very much.”
Your mouth latches onto the first nipple
it can find that isn’t on your own body and your right hand moves to tug the panties from her. Sliding them down the
shapely legs, you toss them behind you and your hand immediately searches out her wetness.
Teasing the damp flesh with
light, barely there touches, you continue to suckle on her breast, only stopping to lavish the same attention on its twin.
Your fingers are confident, and two of them slip inside of her. The delicate tissue that surrounds your digits is contracting
reflexively.
Your fingers don’t move, staying motionless in the heat that encompasses them. Your thumb, however,
flicks her clit is quick, sure strokes until she’s squirming underneath you, arching her body to meet your fingers and
crying for God and every other deity under the sun.
Only when she’s slumped on the bed, a fine sheen of sweat
glistening on her body, do you remove your fingers from her warmth. She whimpers at the loss, and you smile against her breast.
“Please…..”
You
don’t need to be asked twice.
She spreads her legs to accommodate your body, and you move until you’re
cradled between her thighs. Her knees are bent, and she brings one to wind around your body, trying to pull you into her.
You don’t move though. You just smile down at her, your body on top of hers, the tip of your erection is positioned
at her entrance. She’s looking up at you with bright eyes, a soft smile on her lips. There’s an understanding
that flows through you and you share a moment of silent communication before it is mutually decided that you’ve both
waited too long.
Leaning down to kiss her, you let your tongue out to play while you slip inside of her.
Nothing,
no one, has ever felt like this before. You’ve never felt so… connected to another human being before. You don’t
believe that the feeling is caused by your previous abstinence, but more to do with the wonder of a woman that is beneath
you.
“Move,” She orders.
You don’t argue.
Slow, you try to tell yourself, but it’s
not happening. Much as you want to take your time with her, want to make it special, your body isn’t listening. And
neither is hers. She is thrusting against you, legs wrapped high around your waist, hands gripping your forearms.
Soft
moans and pants echo throughout the room and you feel your body begins to tingle as your orgasm rolls over you in waves of
pleasure. Catherine is there with you though, crying out to God again.
As your body comes down from the high, you feel
the instinctive urge to sleep begin to overtake you. Slipping out of her and rolling to the side, you fall to the bed and
pull Catherine into your arms.
“Love you.” She mumbles, and you hear the drowsiness within her sated voice.
“I
love you too.”
Silence fills the room, punctuated only by the sounds of your heavy breaths mixed with hers. You
lay like this, with her securely in your arms, not think about anything other than the feel of her by your side.
“I’m
leaving him.” She tells you suddenly, her words strong.
“Good.” You smile, kiss the top of her head,
and close your eyes.
***
Le End.
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